


David Rose vs. a Plastic Goat

by DawnDust



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: "break-in", Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Episode: s07e13 The New Addition, Fluff and Humor, I starting writing this for the prompter, M/M, Mild Horror, Patrick Brewer Lives to Torment David Rose, Post-Canon, Supernatural Elements, This has Very Little Plot, but are there rlly, but then i ended up writing it for me, but you can read it too, haunted objects, very very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnDust/pseuds/DawnDust
Summary: Patrick wins a prize at a business seminar and David absolutely hates it. That only encourages Patrick to flaunt it around the house even more.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 21
Kudos: 70
Collections: Schitt's Creek Season 7





	David Rose vs. a Plastic Goat

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCSeason7](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCSeason7) collection. 



> **Prompt:** 7x13 - The New Addition
> 
> Patrick wins a prize at a business seminar and it's something terribly gaudy (think the "leg lamp" from A Christmas Story). Patrick is proud of his win, and, of course, is also a troll, so it's definitely going up somewhere in the house. How will David handle this?
> 
>   
> So, this was written in a couple of days and is based off of a picture of a marionette I found online a few months ago (it's attached to the end of this fic) that I'm absolutely _obsessed _with. She's most certainly haunted. And she was the first thing that came to mind when I tried to think of something awful Patrick would use to rile up David. I hope you enjoy reading!__

“What the actual fuck is that?” David asked, staring at the _thing_ in Patrick’s hands. David knew that Patrick had gone to another one of his boring business seminars attended mostly by boring business majors, but he wasn’t aware that he was going to be bringing something back. Especially not something that looked like _that_.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Patrick grinned and held up the monstrosity to David’s eye level, far too close to his face. “Look at her!” 

David leaned away. “Is it… some sort of animal??” David asked, very confused as to what was going on.

“She’s a goat! Her name is Melinda, she’s a marionette, and I love her very much.” Patrick cradled it in his arms as if it was his long-lost child, but offered no other explanation.

“Where exactly did you get it?” David asked, feeling like a broken record.

“We did trivia at the Elmdale Small Business Seminar, and I won! Melinda was my trophy.” Trophy. Patrick called that thing in his arms a trophy.

David blurted out, “ _I’m_ the real trophy,” before realizing how that sounded. Why did he say that?

Patrick tilted his head, looking like an adorable, confused puppy. “I guess? I feel like it would be rude to call you that? Plus, you’re technically my boss so wouldn’t I be the trophy husband?” Patrick blinked a few times, and stared off into space. “What even is a trophy husband?”

"The real question is, why the fuck are business seminars giving out marionettes as prizes?"

"Oh, someone's kid brought it home from school and it creeped her out so she put it in the trophy pool." David couldn't imagine why.

"The trophy pool," David parroted.

"Yeah, it's this little shelf where people bring in prizes to win. I've been trying to win Melinda for the past two sessions and I finally did it!"

David paused. "So you're telling me that you _chose_ to win that. Like, you had other, less insane options, yet you chose the marionette?"

"Yep!" Patrick replied, now staring deep into Melinda's eyes. David hated every inch of what was happening here.

He shook his head violently. They were getting so side-tracked from the main issue at hand: the fact that Patrick thought it was okay to bring that into their home and ruin the aesthetics. David announced, “My point is that you don’t need a trophy, cause you’re not five years old, and you already have me. Also that creature will not be allowed in this house, thanks.”

“Positive reinforcement is a good thing no matter how old you are, David.” Patrick moved his fingers, making the marionette dance jerkily. “It will be allowed in the house, because it’s _our_ house and I won it.” Patrick said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“But, Patrick-”

“Nope! It’s staying.” Patrick walked off, presumably looking for a place to put the monster. David pouted. How was he going to make Patrick get rid of it, now?

___________________________________________

“Really, Patrick?” David asked, unimpressed. “Are you really putting this thing on our mantle? Was putting her in the living room yesterday not punishment enough?”

Patrick was very proud of himself for being able to keep a straight face as he replied, “Yes David, I am putting her on the mantle, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped referring to her as ‘it’. She has feelings too, you know.”

Patrick had made a bet with himself that David wouldn’t be able to last a full hour without commenting on Melinda, and he’d just won himself some blueberry scones for tomorrow.

“But it’s cold today and I wanted to use the fireplace!” David whined. “How am I supposed to do that with that monstrosity in my eyeline?”

Patrick let out a shocked gasp and ran over to cover Melinda’s ears. Or, the two things he assumed were her ears. She really was very ugly and it was sort of hard to tell. “She can hear you!”

“Good!” David said, but glanced at her warily. “I swear to god, Patrick, if you’ve brought a cursed object into our new cottage, again...”

Patrick rolled his eyes. He wasn’t inclined to believe in the supernatural and didn't want to deal with David’s paranoia, _again_. David was referring to the time Patrick had brought a cute little gnome from one of their vendors as decoration for the Apothecary. Twyla had come that day and immediately told David it was cursed, so, naturally, he refused to go anywhere near it. The string of bad luck they had that entire week (involving multiple broken bottles of body milk, a mysterious fungus destroying all of their foot fungus cream, and a light electrocution*) cemented David's suspicions further, until he refused to let Patrick even sleep in the same bed as him, for fear of catching the ‘curse’.

After the electrocution incident, Patrick had cut his losses and thrown out the gnome, _not_ because he believed it was haunted, but because he was sick of David talking about it. And the lack of sex. That also sucked. The next day, Twyla’s second cousin’s best friend’s aunt’s step-cousin came in and performed an exorcism on their store, and then on Patrick. He hadn’t protested. Much. Especially because the electrocution had _really_ hurt, and the exorcisms were buy one, get one free, so they might as well have gotten their money’s worth. It had turned into a whole thing, but the point was that Patrick refused to relieve that ordeal again.

“David, the gnome wasn’t cursed, and neither is Melinda. If you want to use the fireplace and don’t want to look at her, just turn around or wear a blindfold.” He resisted the urge to make sure Melinda wasn’t looking at him. She was _not_ haunted and Patrick didn’t believe in ghosts. Patrick was the level-headed one and he wasn’t about to lose that reputation to _David_ , of all people.

“I’d be down to wear a blindfold…” David replied, giving Patrick an almost Alexis-esque wink. Although he probably wouldn’t appreciate the comparison to his sister. Especially in this context.

“It’s the middle of the day?” 

“And?” Patrick gave David a considering look. It _was_ the weekend.

“You know what, I’m down.” He grabbed David’s hand and headed towards their bedroom.

“Melinda can’t watch, though.”

“David!”

“What? I’m just setting some ground rules.”

___________________________________________

“That was _incredibly_ incorrect,” David said, crossing his arms to show Patrick he meant business. Judging by his husband’s placid expression, it wasn’t working too well.

David had been hinting at Patrick to get rid of Melinda for the past few days without any success. However, he’d completely forgotten about her yesterday, since she was still just sitting on their mantle, not doing too much. Patrick seemed to have taken his lack of annoyance as a personal insult, so he’d moved the creature to the kitchen. David had just been trying to get some coffee, but instead, he’d come face to face with a grotesque goat, and frightened himself awake, rendering the coffee useless. Not that that would stop him from drinking it. But still.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Patrick replied, busy reading the newspaper. Seriously, who the fuck still read newspapers? Had David accidentally married an 80-year old in disguise?

“I’m talking about the fact that I was innocently trying to pour myself some coffee and maybe eat some breakfast, when I saw your disgusting ‘trophy’ and lost my appetite.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Patrick!” David resisted the urge to stomp his foot. “I’m talking to you!”

Patrick finally looked up from his paper. “Yes, David?”

“Why is it in the kitchen??”

“Why is what in the kitchen?” Patrick asked, cause he was a little _shit_ who got off on making David lose his mind.

“The fucking goat! The goat that you put right next to the coffee maker, knowing that that’s the first place I go to in the morning!”

Patrick nodded, but gave no indication that David’s outburst had fazed him. “Yeah, I thought it would be a better way for you to wake up. Now you’re putting fewer stimulants into your system.”

“I _like_ stimulants, very much, and I think it’s very unfair that I’m being kept away from coffee when I could be doing far worse ones!” Patrick looked dismayed. Maybe he finally understood the seriousness of the situation.

“I don’t know what to tell you, David. Melinda was feeling lonely on the mantle. No one was paying any attention to her.”

“She doesn’t have _feelings_ , she’s not real!”

“Um, She’s very much real?” Patrick looked concerned. “David, you do know that she has a physical form, right?”

“Ugh, Patrick, you know exactly what I meant!”

“Clearly, I don’t,” Patrick said, and went back to reading his dumb newspaper.

David huffed. He’d have to come up with a way to get rid of the stupid goat once and for all. “ _Fine_ , I’m heading to the store so that I can drink my coffee and eat one of your leftover scones without having creepy things staring at me.”

“I thought you’d lost your appetite?”

“It was a figure of speech!” David called over his shoulder.

“Makes sense, see you in a bit!” Patrick said, not even looking up. Yes, David would have to do something drastic, soon, if he wanted to escape this with his sanity intact.

___________________________________________

“Yeah, I can have it ready within the week.” Patrick stopped short of the Apothecary at the faint sound of Ronnie’s voice.

“That sounds perfect! But are you sure you don’t want me to pay you?”

“Nah, this will be well worth it just for the look on his face,” Ronnie replied, and then laughed, somewhat nastily. Patrick reminded himself that the Apothecary was _his_ store and that he was allowed to be there, before walking in. Ronnie always put him so off-kilter.

David looked up at the bell, and his eyes widened at the sight of Patrick. Interesting. “I’m so sorry that we don’t have the oils in stock yet, Ronnie! They should be here by next week,” He said loudly, and then looked pointedly behind her, right at Patrick. Ronnie turned around with a confused expression, but her face cleared at the sight of Patrick.

“Yeah, David, next week. I’ll see you then.” She winked at David, side-eyed Patrick, and then left the store.

Once she was gone, David rested his arms on the counter and leaned over it. “Hi, Patrick,” he said, giving him one of his most charming smiles. Luckily, Patrick was immune. Somewhat immune. He was trying his best, okay? 

“Why was Ronnie here, David?” Patrick said, getting straight to the point before he was distracted by how pretty David was. 

He tilted his head in response. “What do you mean? Didn’t you hear, she was here for the oils.”

Patrick walked around the counter and briefly went into the back. He grabbed the box of the oils David was talking about and dropped it on the counter.

“These ones?” He asked, looking at David, who was staring at him like a moose in headlights. That is to say, completely unfazed.

“Oh, I must have forgotten about those,” David replied airily and opened the box to start restocking. Patrick decided to let it go for now. The less he knew about whatever David and Ronnie were up to, the better for his own state of mind.

___________________________________________

“Patrick, where’s the-” David stopped short at the sight of Melinda sitting on the sofa. “Patrick?” he said again, quietly, afraid that the worst had happened. Luckily, his husband poked his head out of the kitchen, confirming that the marionette hadn’t murdered him. Yet.

“What’s up?” Patrick said, acting like he hadn’t put Melinda on the sofa for the sole purpose of annoying David. David considered picking a fight over the goat, but decided against it in favor of locating his food.

“Where’s the bag of chips that was in our bedroom?”

“Back in the kitchen, where it belongs.”

“Well, it was _my_ bag of chips so _I_ get to decide where it belongs.”

Patrick sighed and went back into the kitchen. David followed him in to go rescue his snacks.

“We’re going to get ants if you keep eating in the bedroom.” Patrick said as he took pizza rolls out of the oven. David slunk over to their pantry and triumphantly reclaimed his bag of chips. He was about to eat them, before remembering the pizza rolls. Hm. Patrick only made pizza rolls when he was sad or stressed out. He darted around the kitchen island, and snuck one of them off the plate and shoved it into his mouth while Patrick was on the other side of the kitchen. David glanced over at his husband, and noted his tense posture and tight jaw. Something was definitely wrong. 

“That’s too hot to eat,” Patrick said, without turning around, and he was unfortunately right. Once David finished swallowing what felt like molten lava, he went up behind Patrick and put his arms around him. He lowered his chin onto the curve of Patrick’s shoulder, where he fit perfectly. David could feel some of the tension draining out of his husband. Good. Now he just had to figure out what was wrong.

“Patrick?”

“Yeah?” Patrick was now spreading some of their store’s goat cheese on crackers. Crackers and pizza rolls were not a correct dinner, but Patrick was clearly going through something, so David wasn’t going to comment on it.

“Why’re you stressed out?”

“I’m not.”

“Then why do your shoulders feel like blocks of granite?” David asked, rubbing them to demonstrate. Patrick gently shrugged him off and then turned around to look at him.

“I don’t know.” He replied and then shrugged again. “I guess I just haven’t had the best day.”

David wrinkled his eyebrows. “Bad day at the store?” It was David’s day off, so Patrick had been at the store alone today. David had heard Patrick come home an hour ago, but he’d been busy painting, so he hadn’t greeted him. He felt a bit guilty, because if he’d paid more attention, he would have realized something was wrong earlier, and then maybe Patrick wouldn’t be in the kitchen making himself a sad little snack.

“I don’t know, David. I think it was just a bunch of little things adding up.” Patrick looked up and David nodded to show that he was listening.

“We only had four people come in today. Roland was one of them, and he broke three bottles of toner, but he managed to weasel out of paying for them, because I was with another customer. Gwen came in at the same time as Bob, so I had to deal with a crying Bob for almost an hour. By that point, the spilled toner dried up, but it left behind this weird residue that wouldn’t come out so I spent another hour scrubbing the floors. I don’t know, it just wasn’t a good day. Nothing _awful_ happened, so I don’t know why I’m feeling like this.”

David put a comforting hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “You don’t have to justify your emotions, okay, Patrick? They’re still valid, even if you don’t entirely understand them. And rest assured, Roland _will_ be paying for those. I’ll talk to Joceyln tomorrow.”

David watched Patrick sit down and eat his crackers and pizza rolls almost mournfully. Out of the two of them, Patrick wasn’t typically the one who needed to be comforted, so this was somewhat unfamiliar territory for David.

“Once you’re done, do you want to watch trashy reality TV and cuddle on the sofa?” David asked. Patrick looked at him, mouth still full with crackers and nodded his assent. David privately mourned his previous plans, involving binging a couple of Reese Witherspoon’s greatest hits, and shoving his face full of chips. It was fine. It’d be more fun to spend time with Patrick anyway, especially since he hadn’t seen him for most of today.

Once Patrick was done eating, and David had finished off some of the leftover pancakes from this morning (watching Patrick eat had made him hungry, okay), the two of them went back into the living room. David got out Patrick’s favorite weighted blue blanket and was about to throw it onto the sofa when he saw _her_ again. He suppressed a shudder.

“Patrick, how am I supposed to cuddle with you when that _thing_ is sitting there? The sofa isn’t big enough for all three of us.” Patrick picked up the goat and placed her on the carpet, resting against the sofa. He took the time to angle her arms, legs and head toward the TV.

“There,” he said once he was done. “Now Melinda can watch with us.”

Patrick looked over at David with a smirk, clearly expecting backlash, but David shook his head and simply replied, “Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.” Patrick _melted_ into him. It was always really cute watching his ‘are you really going to let me get away with this’ smiles turn into his ‘wow, I love David Rose’ smiles. David wondered if it was weird or narcissistic to name all of his husband’s different facial expressions like that. Probably not, because what else was he expected to do when his husband was that adorable?

Once they’d settled in, with David’s arm around Patrick and Patrick’s head resting against his chest, David turned the TV on. He pulled up one of the awful Real Housewives shows that Patrick not-so-secretly loved, and resigned himself to a few hours of hate-watching.

Once they’d made it through a couple episodes and quite a few tantrums, David broke the silence. “You know that just because I’m not saying anything about the goat today doesn’t mean that you’ve won, right?”

Patrick looked up at him, amused. “I’m aware.”

“This show is giving me lots of ideas. I think I’m gonna reenact that one scene that inspired the ‘woman yelling at cat’ meme.” He’d always wondered where that was from.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.”

___________________________________________

This was the perfect opportunity. It was Friday, so David’s skincare routine was twice as long, since he was doing his weekly deep hydration mask. Things had been far too quiet for the past couple of days, so Patrick had carefully tucked Melinda in under their covers and then squeezed himself in next to her, making sure she wasn't visible. Once he was settled in, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the book under David’s journal. Patrick spent almost ten minutes attempting to read it before he gave up trying to pay attention and just bounced up and down impatiently. David was taking forever.

Just when he was about to get up and go harass David into finishing up quicker, he heard the click of the bathroom door and looked up to see his husband.

Noting Patrick’s restlessness, David teased, “Someone’s in a mood,” as he continued rubbing at the cream under his eyes.

Patrick flopped over dramatically. “Actually I think I’m too tired to be up for anything, tonight.” He wasn’t actually, but he didn't want David jumping into the bed and hurting himself.

David gave him a bemused look. “Well, there go my plans, then.” He shrugged and attempted to get into their bed, but then jumped out so quickly that he almost tripped.

“What the actual fuck!” Patrick covered his ears at David’s high-pitched shriek and thought about how glad he was that they didn’t have neighbors nearby. For more than one reason.

“What’s wrong, David?” Patrick asked, desperately trying to keep a straight face. “I just thought Melinda could hang out with us tonight, like she did a couple days ago.” If looks could kill, Patrick would be floating facedown in the Creek by now.

“No. no no no, _no_!” David yelled. “This is not happening! I’m putting my foot down.” He brought himself up to full height, crossed his arms, and glared. Patrick sighed and swung himself off the bed.

“Yeah, okay, I knew that was pushing it.” He grabbed Melinda by one of her arms and started dragging her out of the room.

“You think?!” David called out behind his back.

Patrick dumped Melinda on top of the kitchen counter and trudged back to bed. He got settled back in under the covers next to David, who had already made himself comfortable, sitting in bed with his arms crossed.

“If you do anything like that again, and I _will_ call your mom and tell her about the electrocution last month," he threatened. 

Patrick’s eyes widened and he pulled himself up to look at David, betrayed. “David! You promised me you wouldn’t do that!” His mother would kill him herself if she found out he got hurt playing electrician.

David narrowed his eyes at him and said, “Care to find out?” Okay, fine, two could play at this game.

“If you tell my mom about that, I’ll tell _your_ mom about how you stole Krista last Christmas to win that bet against Stevie.”

David blanched. “You wouldn’t dare.” Patrick just smirked back at him. “If you say anything to her, I’ll tell Ronnie about who was really responsible for destroying her present for Flora.”

“That was an accident!” Patrick protested. 

“Do you think Ronnie would care?”

“Ok, fine!” Patrick countered, “I’ll tell Stevie that _you_ were the one who broke her Aunt Maureen’s vase and blamed it on her cat.” David burst out laughing, which wasn’t the reaction Patrick expected from him. “What?”

“Is this what marriage is?”

“What do you mean?”

David replied, “Knowing enough of your husband’s secrets to blackmail him into doing what you want?”

Patrick also started laughing, realizing how ridiculous they were both being. He stopped laughing for just long enough to deadpan, “Congratulations, you figured out my master plan to keep you trapped with me forever.”

“You know, I think I’d be willing to be voluntarily trapped with you forever if I had some sort of incentive,” David said. He sat up and waggled his eyebrows in the ridiculous way he often did.

Patrick nodded, pretending to play along. “Ah yes, I know just the thing.” He gave David a sultry look, and reached for his face, only to turn away at the last minute to grab something off the nightstand.

“What are you doing?” David asked, clearly confused as to why they weren’t making out yet.

“I’m getting you the bag of chips that you left in our bedroom, yet again. I think that’s a great incentive.”

David flopped back down onto the bed. “Patrick! I obviously meant sex!”

“I’d be down for that,” Patrick said as casually as he could, and then threw the bag on top of David’s chest. “Once you put these away.”

“Ugh, I hate you! Who cockblocks _himself_?"

___________________________________________

David woke up to Patrick shaking him insistently.

“It’s the middle of the night, what do you want?” He said snappily, annoyed at having his sleep disturbed. They’d already gone to bed late because Patrick had been making up for his behavior earlier that night, and David was completely worn out.

Patrick furiously whispered, “David! David, get _up_! I think someone broke into our house!” David shot up at that, completely awake now.

“What!? What do you mean someone wamph-” Patrick covered his mouth and muffled the rest of his sentence. That was a little rude, even if he was being too loud.

“Shut up, I don’t want them to hear us.” Patrick got off the bed and picked up the baseball bat he kept under it. David had always made fun of him for it, calling him paranoid for keeping it there. If Patrick was right, he wouldn’t ever make fun of him again.

“Why would anyone break into our house?” David asked, more quietly than before.

“I don’t know, David, I don’t know how robbers think!” He looked more stressed out than David had ever seen before. David was also a little panicky, but was doing his best to keep it together for Patrick’s sake, and he thought he was doing a pretty good job, considering he’d been woken up from a dead sleep and told that someone had broken in.

David switched into Alexis-mode and thought about what she did the last time someone had broken in at her place. It wasn’t very helpful, because from what he recalled, she had tried to flirt with the robber, gotten kidnapped, accidentally participated in a jewelry heist**, and then gotten questioned by the FBI for almost a week. But in the break-in before that, she had just broken a window and jumped out, managing to escape without any of her usual drama. That was perfect!

“Patrick.” David said suddenly, pointing to their left wall window, “We need to get that window open so that we can get out safely.” Patrick, who had, for some inexplicable reason been putting on a thick jacket, looked back at him like he was crazy.

“Are you kidding me? I’m not just going to leave our house to be robbed!”

“Um, what are you gonna do, fight them off with your li'l baseball bat?”

“It’s not _li'l_ , and yeah, I think that’s a great plan. You can stay here.” David threw up his hands in the air.

“You’re being completely ridiculous! they could have guns!” he whisper-yelled.

“David, it’s probably just some idiot teenagers. They aren’t going to have guns.”

“Well, I’m not coming with you to get shot down.”

“Well, I don’t _want_ you to, anyways.” Patrick retorted.

“Are you saying I’m not capable of fighting off a robber?”

“Oh my god, David, we don’t have time for this!”

“Yeah, cause we should be _leaving_ and maybe calling the police instead of sitting here arguing?”

“Wait, shush for a second.”

“ _You_ shush.” David replied automatically. Patrick glared and held up a finger to his lips, but didn’t say anything.

They both sat in silence for a couple of minutes, before David said, “Okay, are you sure someone even broke in? Maybe you just had a bad dream?”

“No, David, it wasn’t a dream! I woke up because I heard multiple loud crashes!” David stared at Patrick for a second.

“Have you considered that maybe something just fell?” David offered. Patrick got really quiet. Wow. “Patrick.”

He rushed out, “Okay, so I hadn’t before, but I am considering it now. And that’s definitely a possibility, but it’s also possible that someone broke in. Cause it was _multiple_ crashes, seconds apart. Remember how Roland’s house got robbed the other day and then Jocelyn-”

David interrupted his rambling by grabbing Patrick's face and forcing him to look David in the eye. “Okay, so you know what we’re going to do? We’re going to get up and check each room, so we can figure out what fell,” he said firmly. “You can bring the bat if it makes you feel better.” Patrick looked extremely embarrassed. He nodded, but held onto his baseball bat. David didn’t comment on that choice.

When they got to the living room, the problem was immediately evident. Melinda was lying down on the ground next to the fire place, spread-eagle on her back. David crossed his arms and turned to Patrick to glare at him, but his face was completely white. Well, it was even paler than it usually was, which was saying something.

“Patrick, are you okay?” David asked, reaching over to steady him, concerned that his husband was going to pass out. “What’s wrong, why are you looking at it like that?”

“You’re not going to believe me,” Patrick whispered. “But I _swear_ to God I put her on the kitchen counter and not anywhere near the fireplace.” David pressed his lips together. He wasn’t going to yell or say I told you so, because Patrick was clearly going through something but also, David had _told him_ not to bring her into the house.

David didn’t say a word and just started walking back into his bedroom.

“Wait, don’t just leave me here with her!” Patrick yelled and scampered after him. “David, where are you going? Back to bed?”

“To the motel,” David replied curtly. “I still have a key to the Honeymoon Suite since Stevie isn’t done revamping it yet.”

“Okay, well, I’m coming with you.”

David stopped, turned around, and narrowed his eyes at Patrick. “Why? You don’t believe in curses or ghosts or anything like that.”

“Well,” Patrick stammered, “I-I don’t, but I also don’t wanna sleep alone.” Mm-hmm.

David considered letting him stew for a little longer, but ended up taking pity on him. His husband _was_ almost shaking with fear, so he'd probably learned his lesson. “Fine, you can come with me. But the first thing you’re doing tomorrow is calling Twyla's best friend's whatever and figuring out how to get rid of that thing.”

“I’m fine with that!”

Once they had packed an overnight bag and were heading to the car, David couldn’t resist a parting shot. “It’s funny how you refused to leave when you thought there were robbers but now you’re refusing to stay because you’re scared of a plastic goat.”

“David, I’m not _scared_ , I just don’t want to be alone in the house with it! For perfectly rational reasons!”

"Of course, honey. I believe you." 

___________________________________________

Less than a week after the Haunted Goat Scare of 2021, Patrick walked into the store and was greeted with a package on the counter. It was addressed to him, but he didn’t remember ordering anything recently. He opened it up to find a handmade doll dressed in a blue button down, blue jeans, and a brown braided belt, with brown hair and eyes the _exact_ same shade as his. He buffered for a second, blinked, and then called out David's name.

“What?” David asked, coming out from the back.

“What’s this?”

David looked at it and then pressed his lips together trying not to laugh. “I forgot about that.” When Patrick looked at him for an explanation, he continued, “You were pissing me off with that goat marionette so I asked Ronnie to make a doll that looked like you, so I could leave it places to annoy you until you got rid of Melinda.” Huh.

Patrick flipped it around. “Did you ask for this too?” he said, pointing at the stitching at the back that said the ‘Thumb’s Up!’ next to a cartoon print of a thumb holding a baseball bat. “It’s nonsensical.”

David's lips curled to the side. “No, but Ronnie also didn’t let me pay her for it, so I’m not surprised that she took the liberty of adding a couple of...embellishments.”

Patrick stared at the doll some more, taking in all its the details. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

David took the doll out of his hands and hugged it. “I think you should say hi to little Patrick! He’s going to be joining us in bed tonight.”

“Oh my _god_ , David.” Patrick replied, annoying himself with how much he sounded like his husband.

“You deserve this.” David replied flatly, and then walked off, the doll still in his arms. Did he, though?

Melinda, in all her glory.

* * *

*Patrick was _fine_ and David had turned it into a much bigger deal than it needed to be. However, Patrick _had_ stopped playing electrician after that day, and called a real one, instead. Best not to tempt fate twice.

**Alexis later told the FBI that she had no idea that the necklace in the glass case at the museum wasn’t for sale, but David was convinced that she just lived to chaos. There was no way someone could be smart enough to almost get away with a jewelry heist and also stupid enough to not realize they were stealing.

**Author's Note:**

> This is extremely self-indulgent, but I'm not ashamed. It was also very experimental, so I hope it was somewhat coherent! Thank you for reading; I would love to hear your thoughts. <3


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